


Under The Crown Of The Split Tree

by Tikimillie, VaQuill



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Deviates From Canon, F/M, Nightmare Abuse, Original Character(s), origin story stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikimillie/pseuds/Tikimillie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaQuill/pseuds/VaQuill
Summary: I call it TwinTreeTaleBasically its Dreamtale but with some changes  because infinite timelines means everything is canon *evil laugther in reality can be whatever i want it to be*
Relationships: Passive!Nightmare Sans/Female OC
Kudos: 7





	Under The Crown Of The Split Tree

Once upon a time, there was a tree which sprouted far into the sky, as if reaching for the heavens, its thick trunk formed of two smaller trunks winding around each other in an eternal embrace, their shared roots long and strong, absorbing nutrients from mother earth herself, like any tree. At first glance, even if its majesty was obvious and its beauty a sight to behold with awe, it might just seem like any other tree. On a second glance though, one would come to notice the little differences in coloration of the conjoined twins, and then, your eye would be drawn to the crown of leaves, noticing the different shades of green and then, the fruits peeking out between them.

Golden, shimmering apples, side by side with black ones, shining purple in direct sunlight.

Guarding the gorgeous tree was the last of three sisters who spun threads of fate from the fibers of the earth, Nim.

You see, in a time long forgotten by the rest of the world, there was no tree to guard, only three sisters, sitting on the hill, laughing and loving each other as they spun tales of hope, tales of tragedy, and tales of overcoming hardships.

The eldest Lux, who’s petals shone gold, contrasting nicely with her dark, vibrant green hair, flowing behind and around her, her skin a birch like gray, telling tales of great beauty and grace, of happiness and fortune, the middle child, Nox, her light grayish-green hair in a short, stiff braid, petals of almost blackish purple, framing her for, her dark, luscious dark brown skin, spikes of bark growing from her shoulders and cheeks and down her spine, reminiscent of armor, like the ones so often featured in her tales of war. She also told stories of tragedy, of great sorrow and misery, of hopelessness and grief and misfortune.

The youngest sister, Nim, spinning tales of tragedy turned to glory, of wisdom, of great things coming to a miserable end, and of overcoming great obstacles to achieve your dreams, gracefully balancing negativity and positivity, her petals of pink forming an almost ballerina-like dress, contrasting with her green skin and green hair, a flower through and through, unlike her ent sisters.

But, like all tales, everything must come to an end, a young man with black hair and icy blue eyes came, demanding they spin him a life of fortune, glory, power, and worship by all he deems beneath him. Disgusted by his arrogance, the eldest sisters laughed at him, only to be impaled by his weapon, clinging to each other as their lifeforce ebbed out of them, running into the earth in little rivers. As to not disappear, and leave the burden of existence all alone for the little sister alone, the sisters embraced her and grew into a mighty tree, carrying her towards the sky on their blooming crown, promising to continue their tales, to share fruits of negativity and positivity, so that their work may continue.

The man, outraged at his failure, vowed to return and declared that Nim had better spun the life he so desired by the time he does, leaving with a scowl on his face.

  
  
  


Nim was now all alone, aside from the breeze carrying the occasional whisper of her sisters, the sound of rustling leaves almost echoing in gentle words. She guarded the tree vigilantly and started to practice fighting, guided by dreams and nightmares given to her by the still form of her sisters. She would not give in to the demands of the fiend who had taken away her family, swearing to strike him down one day.

And so she did, the day he returned, striking him down, his blood running blackish red and sticky through the grass, mixing with her own sap as he died at her feet.

But it came at a price, as her sisters drank up his spirit, the apples of once pure negativity with no intents behind it now took on a deliberate air of maliciousness, their once beautiful purple-black growing an oily sheen of cyan, glimmering ominously in the crown of her sisters, their whispers growing quiet.

Nim herself as well, paid a price for the vengeance, falling to her knees with a defeated sigh, withering away at the foot of the tree, but not before crying out for the universe to use the last of her lifeforce to create a new set of guardians of fate, negativity, positivity, and balance.

Her prayers were answered in the form of two flower buds in the crown of the tree as she withered away, her spirit absorbed by the roots, like the man who had slain her. 

Merging with her sisters, her consciousness expanded, giving her access to infinite knowledge. Knowing her sons would be fragile without a shell to protect their will-o-wisp like cores, she searched far and wide for a suitable form, coming upon the sight of echoes of the same skeleton monster, changing little by little in each incarnation. Seeing as he had plenty of space for the excess energy to dissipate through, she decided to copy a particularly energetic one’s form, one who was healthier than most, untouched by the curse of having a singular hope, instead filled to the brim with it, wishing that said energy and hope might envelop the beings of her sons.

Growing the intricate bones of her sons wasn’t as hard as one would have thought, though, she failed to make it entirely the same as her model, as, if you looked close enough, you might be able to sense the little treelike rings in some places of their bone.

Still, even if they were treelike, they were less fragile than she had been, being made of strong calcium and hope, the bulbs falling off the tree to give birth to the little babybones. The eldest, the one that emerged from its pod the first, would be Nightmare, why he was named such, was a mystery to her, but she knew it to be true, the little 5-year-old sized bone baby, waddling over to the other pod, curiously patting it over with a focused expression.

Brave, strong, confident. Just like Nox had been. She felt giddy, the crown rustling with a delighted giggle in the wind. Soon enough the other skeleton, seemingly slightly behind in development, looking about 3 years old, emerged, shyly peeking from between the pink petals, only to give a happy giggle and tackle his brother to the ground.

As much as she had hoped he would be like Lux had been, he was much different, cautious but courageous, and a neverending beaming smile gracing his chubby little features. Nim could feel in her innermost being, that his name was Dream.

As they grew older, their bones growing with them, they started to deviate further from her sister’s personalities, Nightmare seemed calmer and, as opposed to her sister, never burst out in anger. He was quiet, observant, smart, enjoying a good book, the complete opposite of his brother who would be a little bundle of energy, chasing butterflies, giving his brother a light of fireflies to read in the dark, having found an old jar and filled it with them, exploring the hill, and eventually the forest, lake, and waterfall nearby, thankfully never straying too far. He also seemed to enjoy watching birds, often asking his brother what the different ones were called, resulting in Nightmare asking their mother for a book on birds.

One day, a group of humans and monsters came upon the tree, finding it beautiful.

Upon seeing the skeletons, naked, they however let out scandalized gasps, resulting in the brothers asking for clothes, which was granted, weaved from the softness of their mother's petals, Nim lending the purple her sister.

However, it took a lot of energy out of her, so she only ever got around to make a shirt for her eldest son. Instead, the travelers, having returned, came with gifts, giving both brothers a pair of pants to wear, noting that nightmare had acquired a shirt and decided to give the other one of theirs as well.

They also noticed the aura of joyous energy around the younger guardian, taking pleasure in his presence. Eventually, they decided to stick around, starting to build a house nearby. One house turned to two and soon there was a whole little beginning of a town at the foot of the hill.

As Nim foresaw a time where her influences would cease, she did everything she could to prepare the brothers, but their childlike nature seemed to hold them back, not always understanding or even listening to her lessons.

The villagers started to bring gifts to the younger one, neglecting the elder, who, while not minding it, couldn’t help but wonder if that meant they didn’t like him. One day, an intricately created crown was placed on the youngest’s head, and squealing he had asked them to make one for his brother as well.

Reluctantly they had, although it was less finely constructed, more clunky, and heavier. But, since it was a gift from his brother to him, Nightmare wore it anyway, pride shining at his amazing little younger.

In return he got him a cape, weaving it himself, from trace amounts of positive energy Dream left behind, spun into threads. On a stormy evening, when Dream had huddled close to Nightmare, he had finally revealed it to Dream, telling him that as long as he wore that, it would protect him from everything.

As the village grew, so did the opinions of the two brothers, Dream getting worshipped while whispers of ‘demon’ were thrown Nightmare’s way.

Things escalated and soon, it wasn’t just words being flung his way, rocks and rotten fruit making him ache and flee home to the tree, whenever they would start.

Then, they started to corner him, beat him up, do horrible things to him, torture, abuse, and other unspeakable evils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> current edit and spellcheck by [VaQuill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaQuill)


End file.
